


Please

by wretcheddyke



Category: The L Word (TV 2004), The L Word: Generation Q (TV)
Genre: Bette finally tops Dani, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wretcheddyke/pseuds/wretcheddyke
Summary: Bette is sad over Tina and angry over the campaign. Dani is falling out of love with Sophie and just wants Bette to see her. They both get what they're looking for.
Relationships: Bette Porter/Dani Nunez
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	Please

"Would you like a whiskey?” The aggression still between them.

“Yes.” And Dani watches as Bette turns with a level of professionalism and efficiency she’s longed for since she was little. “Please.” She adds, remembering her lesson in grace. It oozes from Bette, this level of composure as if she were born a fully grown adult. Even in anger, with rage at the world and its injustices, she’s motivated, contained, in charge.

Bette hands her the glass and takes a seat on the couch next to her. They’re rare, these moments where Bette is finally still. Not pacing or taking calls or rushing off to her next campaign rally or interview. In a childlike way, Dani waits patient and hopeful for these stolen glimpses of relaxation. Glimpses of who Bette really is outside of her work, outside the campaign and the stresses that come with it. These moments where Bette slows down just long enough to look up and see Dani. Their eye’s meet and their glasses clink and Bette’s eyes are a darker shade of brown than Dani’s are and she breathes in the moment; the feeling of being seen.

“How are things with your father?” It’s unusual for them to talk about personal things but since Dani had found comfort in the older woman some space had opened up which allowed these exchanges to pass more freely.

“Not good.” She answers honestly. “I have spent my whole life looking up to him. For him to turn around and be just—just so unbelievably cruel. I.. I feel like I have no idea who he really is.” It spills out of her in unrestrained relief. So easy and simplistic, she wonders why she couldn’t let herself say this to Sophie.

“I spent a long time idolising my father. I let it come between my sister and me, even when she stuck her neck out for me I still—I craved his approval.” Bette looks at her with compassion. “It takes time to let go of that. To really know your worth outside of a man’s opinion of you.”

Dani gives a nervous laugh, “You always seem so self-contained. I can’t imagine you at anyone’s mercy.”

“The trouble with wanting to be in control all the time is it’s never enough. You always feel like you’re flailing in the end.” She smiles a little but it’s laced with some sadness Dani can’t fully make out. It makes her want to reach out and touch her, draw her back to the moment, into reality, back to her.

“You don’t look like you’re flailing.” Dani offers. It's a poor effort but she feels lost for words. “You look strong.” She finishes her drink in a gulp slightly too big to be casual.

“Really?” Bette smiles a little wider.

“Capable.” She discards the empty glass and turns herself on the couch, body facing Bette, one knee up on the seat; she leans in and lets her eyes flicker over Bette’s mouth.

“Dani…” It's half a warning, half a plea. _Don’t ask._ They both know the question. They both know the answer is yes. _Yes, I’ll fuck you. Of course, I’ll fuck you, but I won’t love you so please don’t ask._

“In control.” She finishes her thought. Dani thinks she hears a muttered _fuck_ under Bette’s breath as she surges in to kiss her, expertly places her glass on the coffee table without breaking contact. Grabs Dani’s face with two newly freed hands as she opens her lips and licks into her mouth; tongue slow and demanding.

Dani feels her heart in her throat at the contact; it pounds against her chest and she can’t help but smile into her mouth. It's embarrassing and she tries to compose herself, to take things seriously but she is utterly overjoyed at their proximity and she wants for nothing more than to let the moment wash over her; begs the moment to last.

She’s disorientated by her; the feeling of her tongue, the taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair and her perfume. She hardly notices Bette has moved her hands from her face to trail down her spine and lift up the back of her sweater. Bette’s hands are cold on her warm skin and it sends shivers down her arms and across her thighs; they trace circles in her skin, dance up to her neck and down to the waistline of her jeans.

“Please…” Dani breathes into the kiss. It breaks from her lips in a restrained whine and causes a satisfied beam to spread across Bette’s face.

“That’s better.” She commends her and her nimble fingers pop open the button on the younger woman’s jeans. “Lay back.” She commands and Dani doesn’t hesitate to do as she’s told, letting Bette pull her hips towards her so there’s enough room for her to lie her head on the couch seats. Pulls the denim off over her hips and down her thighs; there’s a gentleness to it, firm hands peeling the fabric away as if removing an orange rind, gentle not to damage the delicate fruit but determined, set on devouring. The sweater, that loathsome sweater still rung with the scent of the hospital and her life outside of Bette Porter is discarded with great relief. It lies expunged on the floor under the coffee table, alongside her jeans and her underwear, in a pile of her life before Bette. Dani lies, naked and exposed, on the couch before Bette; eyes wide, body thrumming with anticipation. She lets Bette take in the view, watches the image wash over her. Wonders briefly if there is jealousy behind those eyes—no, she is too smart not to know how age has only sweetened her.

She begins with wet kisses across her chest that leave glistening trails of silk across her skin. A breath catches as a knee, still clothed in black satin makes contact with the bare skin of her centre. She tries desperately to grind down—isn’t allowed. “Please…” She whines again, more desperate this time, more urgent.

“Shhh..” Bette coos into her ear, tongue flicking out to draw an earlobe between her teeth. “Be patient.” Dani can feel her smiling into the crook of her neck and the amalgamation of frustration and delight drives her wild.

Bette doesn’t make her wait too long and those long fingers reach down between her thighs to run long, agonising strokes through her cunt. Head threw back, carotid artery bulging from the contact, Dani lets out a strangled prayer, “Bette…”

“Shhh…” Bette coos again as she finds a stable rhythm. “I want to see you fall apart.”

“Fuck.” Is the only comprehensible term Dani manages to articulate. She exists, at this moment, at a level of intensity she had scarcely dreamed of until now. Not only to be fucked but to be seen by Bette Porter—she thinks she might cry if she doesn’t come. But the rhythm Bette has decided upon is intentionally slow; she teases her with malicious abandon and Dani, echoing the word _patience_ in her head, finds the beginnings of spite. She bites her lip and scrunches her brow to resist the pleas that wish to escape her mouth.

“B—…” _Resist_. “Please...” She crumbles.

“Please what?” She is coy and fully clothed and still— _still_ —appears so unaffected and composed. But some small dilation of the eyes, when Dani, at last, opens hers, gives away the desire swimming in Bette’s expression. It's enough to reassure Dani this isn’t a simple game.

“Please let me come.” The blush that threatens to expose her is restrained by the breath of satisfaction Bette released upon hearing her submission. Her reply is a kiss—a deep and urgent kiss that invades her senses—and the clockwise circles that massage her clit and its not long until Dani feels herself weightless and on fire. The pleasure ripples through her in a soft resurrection, time stops and the air in her lungs lasts her a lifetime until finally, finally she crashes back to reality in a panting mess of sweat and come.

She sees wet black satin trousers and Bette—pushing wet fingers into her own mouth—grinning mercilessly. “You daemon.” She laughs through bliss and Bette takes it as a firm compliment. She can’t stay dazed for long as Bette begins to tease the marble silk from her waistband and lift the blouse off over her head.

“Can I take you to bed?” She asks it formally, toned abs wrapping into ribs, arms sleek and firm.

“Please...” Dani responds.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it's a little sad if you think too hard about their dynamic 
> 
> (Don't shit on me for this, stan Tina too)


End file.
